


Destructive

by Dankmemewhore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-07-10 07:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15944417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dankmemewhore/pseuds/Dankmemewhore
Summary: Reader is a super soldier found by the Avengers after escaping from HYDRA. Bucky refuses to believe that she has truly severed her ties with the organisation and is convinced she is only biding her time to betray them. The reader struggles to find her place within the Avengers while one of them absolutely despises her.





	1. Chapter 1

You stagger away from the overturned van, a slight limp slowing your pace. The van had flipped twice after you shot the driver, you were probably lucky you hadn’t broken anything in the impact. Still, it had worked to disorientate your fellow HYDRA agents. In the confusion it had been almost comically easy to kill them; your training allowing you to deliver steady headshots to several of them before the others even realized what was happening. The rest had fallen soon after, although you had taken several tranquilizer darts in the process. They were unwilling to kill you and that had been their downfall. You can feel the drug coursing through your system, and you try and fight through the grogginess it imposes on you, but you can feel yourself losing. No--you try and blink away the blurriness that settles in your vision--you’re not far enough away--they’ll find you. You stumble and fall forward, wincing as your cheek scrapes against the pavement. You make it back up to your knees before you collapse again, your limbs heavy with exhaustion. It was over.

 

 

 

The first thing you notice is bright light shining above your closed eyelids, then the unfamiliar voices speaking above you. Everything sounds muffled, and you try to concentrate, focusing in on the voices until they became legible. English--they were speaking English. You weren’t back in Russia then, you reason, had you managed to escape after all? You stayed perfectly still, controlling your breathing and your heart rate giving no indication that you were no longer unconscious.

“Sam found her about a mile down the road from the dead HYDRA agents,” One of the voices said, definitely American, male. “There were twenty of them. She was passed out in the road with about six tranquiliser darts stuck in her--I mean that’s enough to take down an elephant for a couple hours and somehow she still managed to fight her way out and get almost a mile away?” He sounded incredulous; whoever these people were they had no idea what you were capable of. That was good.

“I’m pretty sure I can explain that,” The second voice said, “I took a blood test, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen--besides in your and Bucky’s blood. She had to have been enhanced with something similar to the serum used on you and Bucky.” Or not. At least one of the people in the room with you was enhanced, that would make it harder to fight your way out. Definitely not impossible then. _Bucky_. Something about the name sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place it. You hoped it was nothing, if anyone here managed to ID you it would just make it that much more difficult for you to disappear. And disappearing was the only way that you could survive. 

You open your eyes and immediately choose your target before they can even register the change, in one fluid motion you lunge forward, looping your arm around the blonde man’s neck and using the momentum to fling yourself behind him, tightening your grip on him while you stare down the other one. Using your teeth you rip out the IV and let it fall to the ground, using your now freed hand to grip your hostage’s jaw. 

“We’re not going to hurt you,” The man you were holding said slowly while the other eyed you warily, “Just calm down.” 

“I want transport,” Your fingers tighten against his jaw in warning, “And a weapon. If you try anything I’ll snap his neck.” You tense as you hear footsteps echoing down the hallway. One of them must have done something to call back up. There were three of them--two men, one woman. The first of them burst into the room and your eyes widen as you recognize him--the Winter Soldier--and caught off guard you were unable to stop the man you were holding from ripping himself away from you. The moment you separated the Soldier’s cold metal hand met your throat and shoved you roughly against the wall behind you. 

“What the hell is she doing here?” The Soldier hisses, his grip tightening on your throat, cutting off your air supply, “I know her, she’s one of _them_.” Just as you decide it’s time to remove the Asset’s favorite metal asset, you’re distracted by metal parts flying into the room and cloaking the second man in a metal suit. As he grabs the Soldier by the shoulders and rips him away from you, flinging him across the room where he hits a metal table that gives under the impact--you realize that you know him--in fact, you know all of them. Tony Stark, a.k.a. Iron Man, Steve Rogers--Captain America, the slight nervous looking man was Dr. Banner, and the petite redhead was Natasha Romanov, The Black Widow. You weren’t sure why it’d taken you so long to place their names--maybe you were getting sloppy--the amount of times you had read over their files. They were the Avengers--HYDRA’s number one enemies. Rogers is on you the moment the Soldier isn’t, forcing your head down onto the hospital bed with one hand while the other pins one of your arms behind your back.

“Nat, get him out of here!” Rogers shouts as the Soldier climbs to his feet, his rage apparent even from across the room. Romanov steps forward, pulling her handgun and aiming it steadily at the Soldier who’s now glaring at her. 

“Come on Barnes, time to go,” She says evenly. He throws you a vicious look before he shoves past her and out the door. You listen to their footsteps retreat, and once they’re out of your (abnormally good) hearing range, Rogers relaxes, letting you stand up. 

“Now, are you ready to talk?” His tone is friendly, but his eyes are calculating, watching your every move. You shift your weight to your right foot, and his body instinctively does the same. He doesn’t want to fight you, but he will. He sighs, and your eyes move back up to his face, “Let me put it this way, you can either calm down, come into another room, and talk to me, or we calm you down, and you end up in the kind of prison cell that you never get out of.” 

“Steve, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Banner asks gently, “We have no idea who she is or what’s she’s capable of.” Too true.

The helmet of the Iron Man suit pops open, revealing Tony Stark’s smug face, “Yeah, maybe running off with homicide Barbie isn’t exactly the best idea,” he shoots a wink in your direction, “No offence gorgeous.” 

“It’s fine,” Rogers looks down at you, “You’re not going to attack me again are you?” 

“Not right now,” You say after a moment, relaxing your stance. 

“Well that’s reassuring,” Stark balks, but Rogers ignores him, instead gesturing towards the door. You leave the room and allow him to lead you down the hall while you memorize the route he takes you. Any information you had on the building you were in would definitely come in handy during your inevitable escape. You had to play this the right way though, you couldn’t recall how many members their organization had but you knew it was more than just the handful you had already encountered. You were pretty sure they had a sharpshooter too--and maybe the enhanced witch twins that had previously escaped from HYDRA. It was times like this that you wished your memory was fully intact. No matter what it wasn’t going to be easy to get away. 

He stops at a small glass conference room and steps inside, taking a seat at one side of the table. You pull out the chair and sit across from him. “My name is Steve Rogers,” He says gently, “Will you tell me your name?” 

You settle back into the chair, relief flooding your body as you let some of the weight off your ankle. “They call me…” You pause, translating from Russian to English, “Nightingale. I can’t remember my real name.”

“Nightingale,” Roger’s repeats, “I’m part of a group of individuals called the Avengers.”

“I know who you are and who you’re with Rogers,” You lean forward, crossing your arms on the table.

“And now I know who you are and who you’re with,” Rogers responds, his posture relaxed. He must really trust that you’re not going to pull anything--or he thinks that you wouldn’t pose a threat. Well, he was right on one of those ideas at least.

“Was with,” You clarify, “I’m sure that my previous actions will have made my resignation quite clear to my superiors. I’m sure if they’re not searching for me already they will be soon.”

“And that’s exactly why we’ve brought you back to our compound instead of to a government prison. As you’ve seen, we have members here with pasts similar to yours. We’re willing to offer you asylum here and eventually a place within our organization--if of course you can guarantee you don’t pose a threat to our organization and in return you give us any and all information you have on HYDRA.”

“And if I refuse?” 

“Well, then you get to see that prison we’ve been talking about,” Rogers leans forward, elbows coming to rest on the table, “I strongly suggest you take the offer. You’ll be safe here.” Like you needed their protection. Still, it would be nice to have somewhere to lay low for awhile, keep off HYDRA’s radar. 

“It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice.”

Your words hang poignantly in the air for a moment before Rogers gives you a tight smile and rises to his feet. “I’ll show you to your room then.”

 

 

 

Steve lets out a breath as he locks the door to your room behind him, leaning against the wall outside. He was not looking forward to the upcoming days whatsoever. Steeling himself, he heads down to the kitchen; Bucky has his back to the door, his hands clenched on the counter. “Buck,” Steve says softly and his best friend whirls around to face him, his expression livid.

“Are you fucking kidding me Rogers? Have you lost your mind? You’re walking all of us right into a fucking trap. We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t slaughter us all in our sleep. Not everyone is a good person deep down Steve.” 

“Bucky, come on. She’ll be confined to her room, she’s not going anywhere--”

“If you think a locked door is going to stop her,” Bucky snorts angrily, “You’re smarter than this Steve-- this is a mistake. If something seems even a little off I’m putting her down myself.” Bucky shoves past Steve, storming out of the kitchen and down the hall. Steve sighs, leaning back against the counter. This was not going to be fun.

 

 

 

The room was nice, you had to admit. Much better than the cold metal cell you slept in back home. You heard the click of a lock when Rogers closed the door behind him, but you tried it anyway. You bent down to inspect the handle, but found no locking mechanism. Without knowing how it locked you wouldn’t be able to get out, short of just breaking it down of course. But that could be loud--things could get messy. You straighten up, and walk the perimeter of the room. The windows were all bullet proof and locked as well so you weren’t getting through those anytime soon. Too bad you didn’t have a fancy metal arm like the Soldier. A large bed sat against the center of the far wall, with a nightstand and lamp on the left-hand side. You opened the drawer of the nightstand and found it empty. Two doors were set into the wall next to the bed; the first led to an empty closet, and the second to an in-suite bathroom. Inside the cupboards were towels, washcloths, toilet paper; standard toiletries. The medicine cabinet contained bottles of shampoo and soap, along with a plastic wrapped toothbrush. 

The shower looked sinfully appetising--how long had it been since you had the luxury of a hot shower? You honestly couldn’t remember. After a moment of hesitation you slowly stripped off the black kevlar body suit you wore. Blood streaked your bare flesh underneath where it had soaked through the fabric. You stepped into the shower, barely containing a moan as the hot water poured over you, washing the blood, sweat, and grime out of your hair. Despite the fact that it felt like pure ecstacy you kept it short and reluctantly stepped out, re-dressing in your uniform. Your hands felt bare without your customary gloves, but the doctor must have taken them off when he started the IV. 

You sat on the bed, your back straight against the headboard. You were exhausted, the tranquilisers along with the days events had taken their toll; but still, it was more than that. For the first time since you were a child you were out from HYDRA’s thumb. Your escape hadn’t been as clean as you wanted it to be but things could definitely be worse. You were probably even safe to close your eyes for a little while, to drift off to sleep, maybe get a few hours of uninterrupted rest before the sun rose. But maybe not--your eyes snap open as you hear heavy footsteps outside your door. A second later the door burst open, the Soldier flying through it. He grabs your injured ankle and yanks you off the bed where you hit the ground hard. 

You hop nimbly back to your feet and face him, your expression blank as you try to ignore the searing pain shooting up your leg. “Soldat,” You say quietly, “It’s been a long time.” 

“Fuck you,” He spits, towering over you, “Why are you here?”

“I’d gladly leave, but your Captain made it quite clear that if I try, it’s maximum security for me.” 

“Why not fight your way out? Door’s open _Nightingale_ , don’t think you can get past me?” He’s clearly taunting you, but you’re not rising to his bait. For once in your life fighting is not the way out of this situation. At least not as it stands now. 

“Wouldn’t that be something?” You murmur, shifting your weight slightly to alleviate some of the pain in your ankle. The Soldier tenses and then he’s on you, slamming you against the wall, your head bouncing off dizzily as his metal arm forms a bar across your throat.

“You’re not going anywhere because you’re exactly where you want to be,” He snarls in your face, “What does HYDRA want?” 

“What doesn’t HYDRA want?” You laugh, “You, me, your Avenger’s heads on a plate, world domination, take your pick,” he presses harder on your throat, silencing you.

“I don’t know what your plan is,” The Soldier hisses, his voice low in your ear, “But it’s not going to work. I’m watching you, you piece of shit. Thy might not know who you are and what you’re capable of, but _I_ do. If you make a move on one of them, if you even look at someone here wrong, I will rip you apart and I will _enjoy_ doing it.” 

You’re officially out of air so you reach up and grab his metal arm, using all of your strength to push it away from you. “I’m sure you will.” He takes a step back, his eyes cool and filled with hatred. He slams the door behind him when he leaves, and you relax your stance, rubbing at your throat. You felt like you were one chokeslam away from a broken neck. You really couldn’t blame him for his attitude however, in fact, you weren’t too fond at being in the same place as him either. Two high profile ex-HYDRA agents in the same place was just asking for trouble; if HYDRA found out you were positive they would find it to be worth the risk to infiltrate the Avenger’s compound if it meant re-capturing the pair of you. As for his alliance with HYDRA, you would struggle to believe he had severed it if you hadn’t been there to see the broken expression on his face after he had started to remember Steve Rogers. You had watched as they put him in the chair, his confusion and pain as they wiped him again. 

You limp over to the bed, if your ankle hadn’t been fractured before it sure as hell was now. This time you just collapse into the mattress--now that the Soldier had gotten some of his frustration out, he probably wouldn’t try to murder you in your sleep. Probably. The first rays of light filter in the widow as you close your eyes hoping that your do-gooder prison guards would let you rest for a few hours.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s still early when you open your eyes; the sun hangs low in the sky, bathing the room in a rich orange hue. If you had to guess it was probably around eight in the morning, and you had a feeling they would be sending in someone soon to interrogate you. You knew your previous conversation with Rogers was just his way of deciding whether or not you were an immediate danger to him and his companions, now they would want information. You sit up and move to the edge of the bed, combing out your still damp tresses with your fingers. Your clothes are grimy but there’s nothing you can do about it at the moment, and you’ve had worse. You’re fiddling with the straps on your vest when there’s a knock on the door. After a long pause it opens, and Steve Rogers steps inside.

“Good, you’re already up. Did you sleep well?” You nod in response, “Great. I’m going to take you down to the conference room where we spoke last night. One of our agents, Natasha, is going to talk to you about your time with HYDRA. Is that okay?” God, he had to be the most polite person you’d ever met. He made an interrogation sound like a coffee date. 

You rise to your feet and follow after him silently, retracing your steps from the previous night. The conference room is empty when the two of you arrive, and after you take a seat Rogers leaves; probably testing to see if you would try to take off if given a little freedom. You had no doubt someone was close by, and--you glance up, noting the miniscule security cameras--someone was definitely watching. After a few minutes Natasha Romanov strides in the room and takes the seat across from you, her attractive features blank as she looks at you.

“Black Widow,” You say softly, “The legend in the flesh.”

Her lips quirk up slightly at that, “Nightingale. Your reputation precedes you. Up until now we weren’t sure that you actually existed.” That was because no one outside of HYDRA who had ever seen you had lived, but that wasn’t something you typically boasted about. “Did you kill twenty HYDRA agents before escaping from their custody yesterday afternoon?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” She leans back in her chair and crosses her legs, her eyes never leaving yours. 

“There were only twenty men between me and my freedom.”

“Where were you planning to go?” 

“No idea. Somewhere warm probably. I’m pretty over frozen tundras. I’m sure you know what I mean.” Her lips twitch again.

“James Barnes recognized you. Did you know him when you both were HYDRA agents?”

“I didn’t know him by that name, but yes, we have had previous contact with one another.”

“During his time he underwent a memory wiping procedure along with a specific type of brainwashing to keep him compliant. Did you undergo something similar.”

“Yes.” 

“How long have you been with HYDRA?”

“I was fourteen when they took me.” You were pretty sure you were in your twenties based on your appearance, but you weren’t positive of the current year. You didn’t want to admit that though.

“How did you break free of the programming?” 

“I wasn’t wiped often. I didn’t have a _Steve Rogers_ to force their hand. The last time was probably four or five years ago. Things start to come back. The last year or so I was fully in control. I played my part until an opportunity to escape presented itself.”

“And the brainwashing?” 

“Still there I suppose. I assume it’s the same as the Soldier’s--a series of seemingly mundane Russian words. I don’t know what they are.” And if you did you would never tell them.

“Do you remember the things you did while you were working for HYDRA?” 

“Yes.” Your mouth feels dry. 

“Did you at any point during your time with HYDRA attack anyone on U.S. soil?” 

“Yes.”

“How many?”

You pause for a moment, your stomach churning, “I don’t know.” The conversation continued in that fashion for what felt like hours while she dug into every aspect of your experiences; what you had done, when you had done it, any HYDRA facilities you knew the locations of, and prominent members of the organization. Most of the questions you weren’t able to fully answer. You only had a vague idea of the locations of facilities, and only those you had visited, mostly within Russia. You also only knew the names of members who you worked with. What information you had though you freely gave. You had no reason to protect the organization, and if HYDRA fell it would almost guarantee your safety.

“Right,” She says finally, rising to her feet. You're not sure if she believes you. “That’s all for now. I’ll walk you back to your room.”

 

 

 

You wait until you hear the lock click back into place before you fall back onto the bed, your jaw clenched. You weren’t proud of the things you had done, and you especially weren’t proud of the things you had done for them while your mind had been your own. Talking about it made you feel physically ill--you almost wished you could’ve been wiped one last time before you made your bid for freedom to delay the sickening feeling you had now.

You sit up at the sound of soft footsteps outside your door, followed by an equally soft knock. What could they possibly need from you now? Had they decided your information wasn’t good enough? Logic told you if they were about to arrest you they wouldn't knock first, but your body instinctively tensed for confrontation as the door swung open. On the other side is a young brunette woman, a tray of food in her hands. 

“Hello,” She says gently as she walks forward to set the tray on the end of the bed next to you. You can smell the food, and it smells mouth watering but you refuse to break eye contact with the woman. Until you were one hundred percent sure what was going on here you couldn’t afford to show any weakness. “My name is Wanda.”

Between her name and the accent something clicks, and memories come flooding back to you. “The witch right? I’ve seen your files. They weren’t happy when they lost you.”

“Wanda,” She repeats, firmer this time. She’s obviously not a fan of the nickname. “Enjoy the food.” The second she turns around your eyes drop to the food, you can’t help it, your stomach is roaring at the sight. You can’t remember the last time you’d eaten, and you sure as hell couldn’t remember the last time you had been given something this appetising to eat. 

It’s just a simple lunch meat sandwich with a portion of chips and a small fruit salad, but it’s a far cry better than anything HYDRA had ever given you. God, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had seen fruit; most of your nutrition had come from supplements and protein shakes. She had also included a bottle of water and a book. You set the latter aside without looking at it, and take a sip of the water before you start on the sandwich. The sandwich feels so good in your stomach that you immediately take down the chips and fruit too. You drop the now empty tray onto the floor beside your bed.

The one thing your cell in Russia had that this one didn’t was something to do. You had near constantly been on the treadmill they had given you when they didn’t need you for anything. Feeling restless you pace around the room for awhile--your ankle is feeling better already, by tomorrow it wouldn’t even be an issue. You finish off the bottle of water, then do some sit ups. Pace. Do some push ups. Pace a little more. Finally you pick up the book, turning it around in your hand. 

You don’t recognize the title or author, but that’s not surprising in the least. Pop culture wasn’t really in the curriculum where you had spent the majority of your life, and anything you had read before that you couldn’t remember. You were reluctant to read it, worried that this was in someway a trap, but finally you crawl back onto the bed and open the book to the first page. After years and years of reading and rereading nothing but HYDRA history and propaganda, you’re hooked from the first page. You read straight through the afternoon, and you finish it just as the sun begins to set. You wish it had been longer, and it had left you with questions, but it had been very enjoyable. You carefully close it and set it onto the nightstand.

 

 

 

You don’t bother to get up this time when the door knocks--you’re almost positive the footsteps belong to Wanda--and instead passively watch it swing open. 

“Hi--again,” Wanda closes the door behind her with her foot. She has another tray of food that somehow smells even better than the last one, and a small black bag. Once again she sets down the tray, and behind rifling through the bag. “I thought you could use--” She pulls out a bundle of fabric and sets it next to you, “A change of clothes. I’m sure you’d be much more comfortable without your gear on. I also brought a few more books, I know it can be very boring being stuck in here with nothing to do.”

Your eyes flicker down to the food, then to the fabric, then back to her, a slight frown tugging down the corners of your lips. “What’s the catch?” 

“Catch?” Her eyes widen slightly--you had caught her off guard with your question. “Right now you’re probably thinking of this as a prison cell right? I promise you that’s not the case. In another day or two you’ll be able to access the rest of the compound. I do not know what you’ll decide to do after that, but you should really give this place a chance. We’re a family here, and that’s why I brought you those things--I just want you to be more comfortable.” 

Something nudges your leg and you glance down to where she’s holding out the clothes to you. You grab it and pull it into your lap, your fingers resting in the soft fabric.

“Did you like the book?” She picks it up off your nightstand, her fingers caressing the spine.

“Yes,” You reply after a moment, and she smiles in response.

“It’s one of my favorites. I read a lot when I first came here. I didn’t leave my room for weeks. The sequel is in there somewhere--” She gestures towards the pile she had left on your bed, and rises to her feet. “I’ll let you eat. If you need anything, you can just ask F.R.I.D.A.Y.--the AI--she’s wired throughout the entire compound.”

You could guarantee her you wouldn’t need anything, and even if you did you wouldn’t ask, but you nod to be polite and she gives you one more smile before leaving. The food is some kind of chicken and rice dish, and you did into it eagerly, clearing the plate in record time. You wash it down with the bottle of water and set the tray on top of the one from lunch. Now that your appetite was once again sated you pick up the clothes and bring them to the bathroom. 

You strip off your dirty clothes and let them fall to the floor. They were stiff from travel and wear, not to mention the blood and dirt that coated the fabric. You shower again, and re-dress in the clean clothes--a simple white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants, both which fit relatively well. As you dry your hair with a towel and look at your reflection you’re starting to feel like a real person again, for the first time in a very long time. Warm, clean, and full you pad barefoot across the floor and climb back into bed, pulling the blanket up around you.

You hated to admit it, especially since your choice in the matter had effectively been taken away from you, but with the Avengers was probably the best place for you to be. You hadn’t given much thought towards where you would go post-escape, but you knew normal civilian life was not possible for you at this point. Espionage and assassinations were all that you knew, whether you liked it or not, and you were good at what you did. Not to mention you would never be able to stop looking over your shoulder, not as long as HYDRA was around, which brought you to the second point. Putting yourself in with the Avengers would allow you to use your questionable talents for a morally better organization while giving you the best chance of tearing apart the organization from which you had escaped with extreme prejudice.

With that in mind you resolved to play nice as long as nothing seemed off with these people--after all if they were HYDRA’s number one enemies how bad could they be?


	3. Chapter 3

You’re halfway through your last set of sit ups when you hear footsteps coming towards your door. In the last two days Wanda had been fairly consistent in bringing you meals, as well as her books which you burned through almost as fast as she brought them, however she had yet to show today. 

You knew whoever was approaching wasn’t her--the footsteps were too heavy and almost certainly male. Your hand instinctively twitched towards the place where your thigh holsters usually rested, but came into contact with soft denim instead. Right--you told yourself--no weapons. You were wearing another borrowed outfit from Wanda, a pair of gently worn blue jeans and a loose fitting tank top. Wanda had begun to linger when bringing you your meals, choosing to sit and chat for up to an hour at times. She opened up about her own time with HYDRA, and her experiences with the Avengers after that. To your surprise you hadn’t really minded the visits, and while you hadn’t said much in response you enjoyed the feeling of companionship her company had brought. 

You climb to your feet as Rogers pushes the door open, his lips set is a worried line. “Good morning,” He says softly, walking further into the room, “How are you today?” 

“Fine,” You reply, then feeling rude you tack on, “And yourself?”

He looks surprised for a moment, then smiles, “Great, thanks. I was thinking today I could show you around the compound a bit and then you could join us for lunch?”

“You’re letting me out of my cell?” You knew you were being unfair--the room was nicer than any you could remember having, and combining that with the food and entertainment Wanda provided you were practically living in luxury by your standards--but your eyes were calculating as you watch his reaction to you words. The smile quickly falls from his face and his brow furrows in guilt.

“I’m sorry about all this,” he absentmindedly rubs the back of his neck, “I just needed to be sure that you weren’t going to hurt anyone. Wanda has assured me you’re not a danger. You’ll be allowed more freedom now--of course you won’t be able to access the labs or be able to contact anyone off base for awhile. Unless--do you have any family you’d like us to contact on your behalf?”

“My family is dead.” You watch the guilt expression on his face deepen.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” your shrug, taking a few steps towards him and the door, “Are we going?”

“Follow me.” He leads you out the door and down the hallway, “These are all the living quarters. Your room is the third on the left coming from the stairs, and the sixth on the right from the elevator.” He pushes open a door at the end of the hall revealing a staircase, which you follow him down. It feels weird to be padding around the Avenger’s compound in your bare feet. “The communal areas are all on the second floor, the kitchen, a lounge, the training rooms. Tony and Bruce both have labs on the ground floor. You’ll eventually have access to those with their approval.” Rogers walks you past the training rooms and then comes to a stop in the empty lounge. Your eyes drift from the expensive looking furniture up to his face.

“What if I want to leave?”

“His tongue darts out to lick his lips before he answers. “We won’t stop you. Is that what you want?” 

You lower your eyes and run your hand along the rich upholstery of the sofa, feeling the soft fibers beneath your fingertips. “No,” You answer after a moment, “I just wanted to know if I had the option. And you said--given my cooperation--I would be offered a place within the Avengers?”

“If that’s what you choose to do. That’s what I would like to happen.”

You hesitate slightly before speaking, “And if certain things came to light about my past--the things I’ve done--would that offer be rescinded?”

Your eyes widen as Rogers’ hand claps down on your shoulder, his blue eyes searching yours, “The only thing that matters from this point out is what you choose to do with your freedom.” You nod, your eyes dropping from his face. “Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen. Lunch should be here.” 

When you walk in Wanda and a tall dark skinned man are setting boxes on the table while Tony Stark lounges in one of the chairs, a pair of dark sunglasses covering his eyes. The man you don’t recognize and Wanda’s banter cuts off as you enter and he looks up at you. 

“Hello again,” Wanda smiles kindly, “It’s good to see you out of that room. You’ll be much happier now that you can stretch your legs.”

“Yeah--about that,” Stark says, “I’d really appreciate it if you try to avoid breaking anything while you’re here--if you decide to go on a murderous rampage or anything--well, first, don’t kill me, and second, do it outside.”

“Stark,” Rogers warns.

“I’ll do my best,” You respond, earning another smile from Wanda.

“Ahh, he’s just mad that Barnes kicked his ass the first time he was here,” The dark skinned man chuckles and your eyes flicker up to his face. He steps forward, holding out his hand which you gently shake, “I’m Sam Wilson, resident badass and heartbreaker.” Stark snorts at that, and you give him a small smile.

“I’ll have to watch out for that--wouldn’t want to get my heart broken,” You deadpan, while Steve relaxes at your side. You wonder how much trouble the Soldier caused when they brought him in to have him so on edge about you. 

“Come, eat,” Wanda waves you over towards the table, “We have pizza and wings.”

You take the seat between her and Rogers, across from Stark, and fill your plate. Romanov comes in a few minutes later and takes a slice from Stark’s plate, ignoring his grumbling as she sits next to Sam. She gives you a nod before she starts asking a blushing Rogers about a recent date he had.

“Where’s Vis?” Rogers asks finally, changing the topic. 

“Him and Bruce are down in the lab,” Wanda replies, “Some sort of science project,” She says vaguely. 

“I’ll take Bruce down some food in a bit,” Romanov frowns, “He forgets to eat when the two of them get into something like this.” 

“Tell Bruce I want all the information he has at the end of the week,” Rogers tells her. You silently try to piece together what they’re talking about with no luck--exactly the way they probably want it. You have no idea who Vis is either. 

“Is the Terminator not joining us today?” Stark’s words are directed at Steve but his eyes watch you. You’re not sure why, or what the Terminator is. 

“Buck’s uh…” Rogers trails off, his eyes glancing at you and then back to Stark, his jaw clenched. They must be talking about the Soldier. “Busy,” He finishes lamely.

“It’s okay,” You set down the pizza crust you had been nibbling on. All eyes were on you, “You can say it, he’s not happy I’m here.”

“He’s just concerned that--”

“I’m a HYDRA spy,” You cut Rogers off, “I get it. I would think the same thing if our positions were reversed. I assume you all have some reservations about me. I feel the same way. In our line of work there’s no such thing as too much caution. You don’t need to tiptoe around me though.” 

After a pregnant pause Wanda breaks the silence, “I have no reservations,” You meet her steady gaze, “Your mind is kind, not deceptive.” You’re surprised at her words, and to learn of her ability--you remembered her having some kind of mind control, but you didn’t know she could _read_ minds--or pick up on your feelings or whatever the hell she was doing. 

“He’ll come around,” Rogers says finally, his eyes not meeting yours as you turn away from Wanda to look at him. “Do you have any questions about the compound or anything else?” 

You swallow the rest of your crust, “Can I use one of the training rooms? I haven’t been able to get much exercise the last few days.” 

“Of course. Do you remember where they are?” You nod and rise to your feet, giving the people still seated a small smile. Before you depart Steve calls out, “Oh, uh, use C. Bucky’s in A.” 

You retrace your way to the training rooms Rogers had previously pointed out and waste no time jumping onto the treadmill. The jeans weren’t the best material for exercise, but it felt so good to stretch your legs--especially now that your ankle was fully healed. Running had been your main outlet during your imprisonment and you had come to enjoy it. Everything else fell away as your bare feet thudded against the treadmill’s track, and you quickly put the miles behind you, focusing on nothing but the sound of your even breathing. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been at it when you feel a presence, and your eyes snap open. Barnes is watching you from the open doorway, his scowl visible from across the room, his distaste almost palpable. Annoyance surges through you, I mean come on, you think as you come to a stop, if he really disliked you that much shouldn’t he just be ignoring you? You avoid eye contact as you walk towards him trying to ignore the waves of hatred he’s giving off but it’s difficult when his body twitches backwards away from you instinctively like you’re _diseased_. You have to force your mouth to stay closed, and your legs to keep moving, because you can feel instinctive anger rising within you at his actions.

But you were getting a fresh start here, and you wouldn’t let the Winter Soldier ruin that for you.

 

 

 

From that point on he seemed to always be around when you left your room, glaring at you from across the room while you ignored him, jaw clenched. When you left the training room after a morning session he would be in the hall, arms folded across his chest--if you helped Wanda bake in the kitchen, he’d be at the table with narrowed eyes. He was tailing you--constantly, and it was pissing you off.

 

 

 

You walk into the lounge, pleasantly surprised to see it was Barnes free. The man seemed to have a knack for predicting where you would be and setting up shop--it was uncanny. Wanda and Vision had cleared off the coffee table, and were sitting on the floor opposite each other, putting together a puzzle. Over the past few weeks you had found yourself enjoying their company--they were both incredible kind people (or beings, in Vision’s case) with a very calming nature. Vision looks up as you enter, smiling.

“Nightingale,” He says pleasantly, “Care to join us?”

“Sure,” You settle yourself down at one end of the table, looking over what they had gotten done so far. 

“Did you start that book I recommended?” Wanda asks as she pushes some of the pieces towards you.

“Yes--I’m almost done,” You admit, “Hooked from the first page, just like you said.” She beams at your words and your lips curl up in response. You fit a piece into the puzzle and the three of you lapse into a comfortable silence. You know the second he walks in, as his arrival immediately dampens the mood and you frown as you look up at him in the doorway. Maybe it’s because you’re actually having a good time, or because you’re finally starting to feel like you belong--you’re not sure which, but your mouth starts working independently of your brain, “Can I help you with something Barnes?” Vision’s eyes flicker from you to the Soldier, whose expression darkens at the sound of your voice. He takes a few steps into the room and you rise to your feet, walking past the table and around the sofa so you’re just a few feet away from his hulking form. “I figured since you’ve been following me all the time you must want something.”

“Just keeping an eye on you--waiting for the slaughter.” His tone is cool, but you can hear the anger lurking below the surface.

His fists clench at his sides, but you push your luck, your own annoyance reaching a boiling point, “Have you ever considered seeing someone about these delusions of yours? I mean, I’ve heard of trust issues but you take it to a whole new--” He lunges forward faster than you could have anticipated, his fist clips your chin and sends you stumbling backwards into the back of the couch. Before Wanda or Vision can react you launch yourself at him, your shoulder hits him cleanly in the chest and the impact sends both of you to the floor. He’s on top of you in an instant, and you catch his fist in your hands before he can slam it into your face. 

“Bucky!” Wanda yells, but he ignores her. Before he can take another swing his body is enveloped in red and he’s flung away from you, hitting the wall a few feet away. “Gale!” Wanda’s eyes widen as you scramble to your feet, once again lunging towards him, “Vis, grab her!”

Vision’s on you before you can reach the Soldier, grabbing you around your waist and pulling you away from Barnes who’s struggling to free himself from Wanda’s magic.

“I thought I heard--” Your head swivels around as you hear Steve’s voice from behind you, “What the…” He frowns as he takes in the sight--your rapidly swelling face, the cracked wall behind Barnes and the two of you struggling in Wanda and Vision’s grasps. “Alright guys, break it up.” Steve has his Captain voice on now, “You two done?” Your eyes flicker to Barnes who clenches his jaw and nods, avoiding Steve’s eyes. Steve looks at you, and you relax in Vision’s grip, holding up your hands in surrender. Wanda lets go of Barnes and he wastes no time storming out of the room while you step away from Vision, rubbing at your aching jaw. 

“Sorry guys,” You say after a moment, eyes on the floor in front of you, “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Bucky has been itching for a fight since you got here,” Wanda’s tone is soothing, and she walks towards you resting her hand on your arm, “It was bound to happen at one point or another.” 

You look up at Steve, “Do you want me to leave?”

“What?” He sounds surprised, “Gale you don’t have to go anywhere. It was a scuffle, it happens. I don’t know the details, but I know he’s been on you since you got here. It’ll sort itself out in time…” He trails off, sounding doubtful, “Just...try not to let it happen again?” 

“Okay. No fighting with Barnes, got it, I can do that.” You say with a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

“Gale, you make coffee?” Sam walks into the kitchen and you automatically snag another mug from the cupboard and pour a second cup of the hot liquid for your friend. 

“Yeah, but none of it’s for you,” You tease, holding both mugs to your chest before you hand one over. He takes a sip and lets out a moan. 

“God you make the best coffee,” Sam grins, “What the hell did we do before you got here?” 

“Drank Roger’s shit water,” Natasha breezes by you to the now half filled pot, “Spar later Gale?” 

“Mm, you’re on,” You sip your own coffee as Barnes walks in, he sees you and his expression instantly sours. 

“Great,” He mutters, heading towards the fridge. “HYDRA’s in the kitchen.” 

“Well it wasn’t until you showed up,” You shoot back, setting your mug behind you on the counter. There was a 50/50 chance your remark would start a fight and you wanted to salvage your coffee if you could. 

“The fuck did you just say to me?” Barnes whips around, and he’s in your face in a second. Sam and Natasha both take a step back, holding their mugs to their faces to hide their smiles. 

“Ten on Gale.” You hear Sam mutter under his breath to Nat. 

“Nothing Soldat,” You smirk and the odds shoot up to 100%. You duck to the side as his metal fist hits where your head was just a moment prior, the wood of the overhead cabinets splinters, raining wood down into your cup. There goes that. You aim a kick at his head, and his body slams into the fridge leaving a large dent in the metal. He lunges and you and you leap out of the way before sweeping his feet out from under him. He grabs your wrist as he falls and flings you away from him, Natasha and Sam are both forced to duck as you fly over them, landing on the dining room table which cracks under your weight. You leap back over the counter, wrapping your legs around Barnes’ neck and bring him to the ground once more then leap nimbly back before he can get a hold of you. He’s on his feet in an instant and swings a punch, you grab his metal hand in yours, and he shoves you away before kicking you square in the chest, sending you into the cabinets once more. Your head bounces off the bottom edge and you knock the coffee pot to the ground as you fall, landing unsteadily on your feet while the coffee pot shatters.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tony rounds the corner into the kitchen, “Wilson, Romanov, were you just going to watch them destroy the kitchen?” 

“We were...waiting for an opportunity,” Sam pulls a chunk of wood out of his coffee cup and flicks it away while Natasha bites back a grin. Barnes shoots you one more glare before he turns around, storming out of the kitchen. 

“Sorry Tony,” You step nimbly over the pooling coffee, brushing sawdust from your shirt. “Barnes.” You say in way of explanation.

“No, not Barnes, that’s not going to cut it,” Tony crosses his arms, “Two weeks ago you two broke the glass wall in Bruce’s lab, last week you _destroyed_ one of the training rooms, _yesterday_ you broke the t.v. in the lounge. Now the kitchen? F.R.I.D.A.Y. tell Rogers to get his star-spangled-ass up here, now.” You cross your arms and lean back against the counter, watching passively as Natasha and Sam slip out the door just as Steve walks in.

“Stark what do you--” He stops and looks around the room and sighs. “Again?” 

“I was literally making coffee,” You gesture to the shattered remains of the coffee pot, “He’s a fucking animal.” Steve closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I’ll talk to him,” Steve says shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Tony pops his sunglasses on, rubbing at his forehead “See that you do. You,” he looks up at you, “Go do something productive. _Jesus_. F.R.I.D.A.Y. get someone here to fix the cabinets, and order a new coffee pot. And table. And fridge.” He shoots you a dirty look before turning and walking out of the room. You let out a breath, and grab a bottle of water out of the dented fridge. Your usual training room had been the one destroyed, so you head over to the one that was least likely to have Barnes in it. Natasha is already there, stretching out against the wall.

“Thought you’d come here,” She smirks, “Blowing off some steam?”

“Hey, at least I don’t need to warm up.” You spar with Natasha for a few hours, which is always enjoyable, even if you have to pull your punches a little. Steve would be your ideal opponent, but he spent most of his time with Barnes and you joining the two of them was definitely not an option. Still, Natasha was fast, well trained and could hold her own in a fight. 

“Think he’ll ever chill?” You ask as the two of you are putting away the various weapons from your training session back where they belong.

“Barnes? I honestly don’t know. I think you’re a constant reminder of a past he’s trying to forget. If your positions were reversed would you be able to trust him?” 

“Yes,” You say immediately, “I saw his face when they wiped him for the last time, I saw remorse in his eyes. I know he’s not one of them.” 

“Has he ever seen that in you? Did you ever give him a hint when you worked together that you were anything more than the mindless soldier that you were meant to be?” You frown and Natasha gives you a reassuring smile, “Worse case scenario Stark just kicks you both to the streets.”

“Right, thanks,” You roll your eyes, snatching up your water bottle, “I think the worst case scenario is that one of us kills each other at this point.” 

“You don’t have to push him back you know,” Natasha grabs your bottle and takes a sip, “Thanks--You could just ignore him.”

“I try!” She gives you a look and you backpedal, “Okay, not really--he just gets under my skin Nat. I mean, you trust me, right?” 

“You’ve saved my ass too often for me to not trust you, but we don’t have the history you and Barnes do. Honestly, I think he needs to crawl out of his own ass. If it wasn’t for Steve he’d be imprisoned, or more likely dead at this point. He almost killed all of us at one point or another, but we all consider it in the past. He can’t do that for some reason. Maybe just try a little harder to keep your cool?”

“Yeah, yeah,” You wave your hand dismissively, “I’ll see what I can do.” You part ways and head up to your room for a shower. When you’re done you wander back down to the lounge where Sam is spread out across the couch, flipping through the t.v. channels.

“Don’t you usually spend Sundays in Stark’s lab?” Sam asks as you perch on the sofa by his feet. 

“He’s not particularly happy with me at the moment,” You respond, “Figured I’d give him some time to cool off.” 

“Man, you and Barnes in a room together,” Sam shakes his head and chuckles, “It’s like throwing two rabid dogs in a closet. I don’t know what the hell happened between you before you came here but jesus.” 

“Nothing,” You frown, “We worked together sometimes, but not that closely, and we didn’t have any contact in between missions. We have a history, but we don’t have a _history_.” 

“See, I pictured you two as secret lovers, cosying up together on cold Russian nights between assassinations--until one day, you betray him and break his heart--he’s almost forgotten about you and then boom! You show up here and--”

“Okay okay,” You cut him off, “That is some imagination you have there. I can promise you that Barnes and I were not in some clandestine romance that ended badly.”

“Damn,” Sam grins, “Guess you must just have been a huge bitch then.” 

“Sam!” You laugh, “Don’t forget that I am a biologically enhanced super assassin, and know about a million ways to kill you with any item in this room.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” He waves you off, “You and everyone else in this place. You coming to Sunday dinner? It’s my turn to cook. It’s going to be amazing.” 

“After this morning?” You roll your eyes and stand up, “Yeah, no thanks. Save me some leftovers maybe?” 

“ _If_ there’s anything left I’ll bring you a plate.”

“Mm, you’re the best,” You call over your shoulder as you walk out the door. Luckily you manage to get to your room without world war three breaking out.

It was so frustrating that you constantly had to tiptoe around the compound lest you and Barnes end up in too close of proximity to one another. After your first fight and Steve’s interjection he had stopped tailing you all the time and now worked to actively avoid you. Steve would never let him skip Sunday dinner, so you did the world a favor and kept to your room during those meals, despite Wanda and Sam’s protests. 

You change out of your coffee stained pants and into a pair of sweats before collapsing onto your bed. You grab your latest book from your nightstand and crack it open; it’ll be a few hours before Sam or Wanda come up with your food. You hoped it was Wanda--you could use a girl’s night after your run in with tall dark and angry--but lately you noticed she had been spending more and more of her nights with a certain android. She claimed they were just friends, but you had definitely seen Vision disappear through her wall late at night several times in the past few weeks. 

Between Nat and Bruce, Tony and Pepper, Wanda and Vis, and Steve and Sharon, you had been seeing a lot of romances all at different stages. It made you wonder if there was someone out there for you. If you would ever or could ever have something like that. You throw your arms over your face and groan--you needed to banish all thoughts like that. Dating was definitely not a priority for you, and as long as HYDRA was still out there, it wasn’t even something you could consider.


	5. Chapter 5

_Fucking Barnes_. You try and keep your cool, but he’s just glaring at you from the other side of the conference table. You try and ignore him as you quickly glance over the file Steve had handed to you, but when you glance back up and he’s still staring you down you can’t help yourself. “Do I have something on my face Barnes?” You ask evenly as Bucky’s fists clench around his own file.

“Guys,” Steve frowns, “Not now. We have a mission to get done. Let’s just focus on that.” You roll your eyes, but shift your gaze over to Steve. “Nat, Bucky, you’ll ride in together. Keep quiet. Buck, I want you covering us from the roof across the street, Nat, you stay at the bus stop diagonal from the restaurant. Gale and I will go in as patrons--our intelligence says that our target eats lunch at this establishment at noon everyday. We’re just shadowing until we have evidence that this is our guy.”

Barnes frowns--probably because you’ll be alone with Steve and in his mind you were just biding your time until you had a chance to murder his best friend. It had been Steve’s idea, the sweetheart, that maybe if you and Barnes started going on missions together he would start to trust you. If anything, it would have the opposite effect. God knows Barnes would _never_ trust you to have his back--and due to his very obvious hatred of you, you felt the same way. He clearly wanted you dead, so if something were to happen on a mission you knew he wouldn’t raise a finger to save you.

Barnes and Nat climb onto his motorcycle, while you follow Steve to the unassuming black sedan you typically took on these type of missions. 

“Seatbelt,” Steve says as he starts the car. You glance at him, amused, and pull it on. You’re both quiet as you drive, until Steve looks over at you. “This is going to be good Gale, the two of you just need to learn to work together.”

You peer to the side, scanning his open, sincere face and sigh. “I know you think that Steve, but it’s been _months_ and it’s only getting worse. I don’t think this is something that he’s going to get past.” You’re getting close so you pull on the short blonde wig you brought, checking your reflection while Steve fits a baseball cap on his head. He parks in the small parking lot and you both activate your earpieces. You can feel Barnes’ eyes on you as you wrap your hand around Steve’s arm, letting him lead you into the diner.

The two of you take a seat at the table in the far back, you’re facing outwards so you casually scan the room until you spot the target. “Our appointment is at three o’clock,” You tell him blankly, looking down at the menu.

“What can I get you folks?” The waitress comes around, holding a notepad. 

“Just coffee,” You look up at her, before letting your eyes shift over to the target, then back to Steve.

“Make that two,” Steve says giving her that all-American smile of his. She brings the coffee over quickly, charmed. You take a sip, it’s a little weak but still warm and good. The two of you make quiet small talk as you drink your coffee until movement catches your eye. 

“Mm, looks like our appointment got moved up,” You murmur quietly as the target stands up at his table. You wait a minute or two after he leaves before you rise to your feet. Steve tosses a ten onto the table and you both walk out.

“He’s heading north,” Natasha says softly in your ear.

“Just went down an alley a block down,” Barnes murmurs as you and Steve move in that direction, “I’m getting closer.” 

You and Steve stop before the mouth of the alley, “Buck, you got eyes?”

“He’s just standing there, smoking a cigarette,” You can hear the frown in his voice, “You sure this is the right guy Steve?” 

“Unless the intelligence was wrong,” Steve says doubtfully.

“Guys, we’ve got incoming--” Natasha says suddenly, as gunfire erupts around you. 

“Nat?” Steve calls out. 

“I’m okay--could use some back up though,” She replies breathlessly. 

“The target is moving up the alley, looks like he’s in a hurry now.”

“Gale, get the target, Buck, cover her.” Steve commands before running back towards Natasha and the gunfire. You take off after the target, when three motorcycles pull up, blocking the other end of the alley. They immediately open fire with automatic weapons, and you dive towards an alcove--you grimace as a bullet rips through your left shoulder before you can get fully into cover. You fall against the wall, panting slightly from the pain of the bullet wound and wait for the sound of Barnes’ rifle but none comes. Of course, why on earth would he _actually_ be covering you. You wait for a pause in the shooting and poke your head out, firing off two well aimed shots before the third man begins firing again, bullets whizzing past you forcing you to duck for cover once more. “Fuck me,” You murmur quietly under your breath, before you launch yourself out of the alcove and towards the last man, using the element of surprise to shoot him before he shot you. 

“You alright Gale?” Steve asks in your ear.

“Peachy,” You grumble in response, “Does anyone have eyes on the target?” 

“He’s about two blocks up, looks like he’s waiting for somethin’. He’s got a briefcase that he definitely did not have before. Should I take him out Stevie?” 

“Briefcase? Shit--Steve it sounds like our intelligence was correct--that could be the serum. I’m heading that way now.” You ignore the stabbing pain shooting down your left side and sprint towards the target. He startles at your approach, and flings the briefcase at you before running off. You start to follow, but a sudden dizziness has you bracing yourself against the nearest wall.

“Well wasn’t that as pretty of a handoff as I’ve ever seen?” You whip around to see Barnes coming up behind you.

“Are you fucking kidding me Barnes? Did you miss the part where I got shot?”

“Shot? Gale--are you--” You pull the earpiece from your ear, cutting Steve off.

“Bet HYDRA would love for you to get your hands on that serum,” Barnes continues, “But I’m not going to let that happen.” You can’t help it, your adrenaline is pumping and god you just want to knock that pissed off look from his face. You push off the wall, your face only inches from his, your eyes boring into his own.

“Trakhat tebya, soldat,” You snarl and he pushes you back, pain explodes in your shoulder as his hand hits it, and your right hand connects with his face, sending him to the ground as your legs collapse under you, the briefcase tumbling from your hand.

Barnes’ is sitting up and your bracing yourself for his next attack when footsteps round the corner. “Gale, are you alright?” Steve is by your side in an instant, helping you to your feet while Natasha scoops up the briefcase. 

“I’m fine,” You pull away from him. He looks from your wound to Barnes’ split lip and frowns. 

“The target?”

“Got away.” 

“While you two were fighting?” 

“That’s not--”

“You two,” Steve cuts you off, “Are both suspended until further notice.”

“Steve--” Barnes starts, but is quickly silenced by a look from Steve. 

“We need to get Gale back to base to have that shoulder looked at,” Steve turns around as Natasha pulls up in the black sedan. He helps you into the back seat and hands you the case. His subtle way of telling you that he puts no stake in his friend’s accusations. You push it off your lap onto the seat beside you, and rest your head against the window after he closes the door. 

“Meet us back at the compound.” His voice is muffled through the car door and you let your eyes drift closed. 

“Put pressure on that Gale,” Nat calls from the front seat. The car is moving, and Steve is handing you his shirt. You bundle it up and press it against your shoulder, wincing at the pain that flares up in response. 

“What happened back there?” Steve asks softly. 

“Three guys pulled up and I lost sight of the target. I took some fire--obviously--and once they were taken care of I found the target, he spooked and threw the case at me. Then Barnes showed up.”

“And attacked you?”

“That’s not--” You frown, “I shouldn’t have antagonized him.” You’re not sure why you’re defending him--he did attack you. But if it wasn’t for your smart mouth it probably wouldn’t have come to blows. Steve doesn’t say anything but you can practically hear his frown. 

 

 

 

You head down to Bruce’s lab after shaking off Steve’s repeated offers of assistance. He’s leaning over his desk when you walk in. 

“Gale, jesus, what happened to you?” He asks, standing up and walking around the desk. He grabs your uninjured arm and steers you towards an empty chair. 

“I got shot.” 

“I’d hate to see the other guy,” Bruce murmurs. He uses a pair of scissors to cut off your shirt and see the damage. You look away as he cleans and packs the wound before bandages it up. When he’s finished he gently wipes the blood from your skin. “Everything okay? You’re unusually quiet.”

“I got shot,” You repeat defensively, “Doesn’t that earn me the right to a bad attitude for a few hours at least?” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Bruce chuckles. “You’re going to have to wear a sling for a week or two--consider yourself lucky. If you weren’t enhanced you would probably need surgery.”

He helps you into a scrub top before gently maneuvering your arm into the sling. “Okay, seriously, take it easy. Like sit on the couch for the next fourteen days and don’t move your arm, alright?”

“Thanks doc, I’ll do my best.” You shuffle up to the second floor where Steve is pacing down the hallway in front of the conference room.

“Gale,” he stops you, “Glad to see you’re feeling better. I need to see you in here for a second. You bite back a sigh as you slip past him into the room. Barnes is already in there, and you take a seat at the other end of the table, trying not to jostle your arm. His eyes rest on your sling and then flicker up to your face for just a moment before his gaze returns to the table. In that moment, for the first time since you had come to the compound he didn’t look angry or hateful, he actually looked guilty. You weren’t sure what to make of that--but he sure as hell should feel guilty because it sure as hell was his fault.

Steve comes to stand between the two of you, palms flat on the table. “This has got to stop,” he says softly, “I know you two have a history, but most of us here have some kind of history, and none of the rest of us are constantly at each other’s throats like the two of you are. As it stands right now, neither of you are going back into the field until whatever this is stops. End of story.”

“Steve, losing people in the field is a liability.”

“No, having two team members fighting each other in the field is a liability, Buck,” Steve snaps, before he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “Figure this out, now.” 

Something bitter seeps into you as Steve leaves the room because it isn’t _fair_. You never asked for this--it was all him. Anger floods your veins and you stand up abruptly, your uninjured hand clenched at your side. He rises to his feet as well, but you don’t look at him until you’re standing in front of him.

“Just stay the fuck away from me Barnes,” You snarl, your eyes narrowing as they meet his cold blue ones. His lip twitches, and you turn on your heel before he can say anything else. Bruce would be pretty disappointed if you managed to get in another fight just minutes after he patched you up.


	6. Chapter 6

You fall onto the sofa next to Sam and snag a handful of his snack mix, a smile on your lips as you look over at him.

“How’s the arm?” 

“Better,” You reply, moving it slightly in the sling, “Banner says I can get rid of this in a few days.”

“Bet you’re excited. You can get back to kicking ass and taking names.”

“You haven’t heard?” You lean back, crossing your legs on the coffee table, “I’m suspended pending Barnes deciding that I’m not a HYDRA sleeper agent.”

“Seriously?” Sam sits up, turning to face you, “What the hell happened on that mission?” 

“I don’t know,” You sigh, running your uninjured hand through your hair, “Maybe it’s for the best--well--I mean, I guess I understand why Steve did it. We don’t trust each other, we shouldn’t be working together. This,” You jerk your injured arm slightly, “Is what happens when you have people in the field who don’t have your back.”

Sam’s eyes widen as he looks at your arm, “Barnes--he--did he--” he sputters and you quickly shake your head.

“He didn’t shoot me,” You chuckle, “I just made a mistake in thinking I could trust him to have my back. An error in judgement. It won’t happen again.” 

“Sam,” Steve walks in the room, tactical suit on, “We need you. Oh, Gale,” He stops when he sees you, “You’re gonna be on your own for a day or so, we’ve got a mission.” Sam hops to his feet, clapping you gently on your good shoulder. Steve starts to follow him out, then stops, turning back to look at you. “Barnes is also staying behind, obviously. Try…” He hesitates, “Try not to destroy the compound while we’re gone, alright?” 

Something close to hurt floods your body, and you turn away from him, your fingertips digging into your thigh. “You got it Steve.” You wait until long after you hear the quinjet take off before you finally stand up and head to the kitchen.

Barnes is already sitting at the breakfast bar when you walk in and you suppress a groan because of _course_ he is. You shuffle over to the fridge and look around for the leftover pizza, then glance behind you to where Barnes has the opened box in front of him on the counter, glaring at you as he munches on a slice. Deep breaths, you tell yourself, deep breaths. You watch as he bites off a chunk of the crust and then tosses the rest of it in the box. 

“Did you want some?” He drawls, staring you down. Waiting for a reaction. You shut the fridge behind you and walk forward before you slam your palm down on the counter.

“What. The. Fuck. Is. Your. Problem?” You snarl as he rises to his feet, his cold blue eyes only inches from yours, “I’ve done nothing to you Barnes! You act like I’m this terrible person who’s just waiting for my moment to betray you, when you’re the one who would let your teammate get shot. I trusted you to have my back!”

“Get out of my face Nightingale,” Barnes says darkly, “Steve ain’t here this time.” 

“You know what Barnes?” You hiss, shoving back from the table. You roll your shoulder, testing it, and try to ignore the sharp pain that radiates from the injury. “Let’s fucking do th--” You’re cut off as a loud explosion rings out through the compound, and the floor shutters beneath you. “The fuck?”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. what the fuck was that?” Barnes barks, coming around the counter.

“I’m afraid we have an incoming aerial vehicle firing on your location Sergeant Barnes,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. responds, “I detect ten heat signatures on the plane, and another thirty heat signatures closing in on the front door.” HYDRA, no question.

“Christ, isn’t this as beautiful of an ambush I’ve ever seen. Wonder how they knew we were the only two on base,” Barnes growls, shooting you a look. His brown furrows, and you can see a shadow of doubt on his face as his eyes meet yours, wide with fear. You had barely managed to fight off the twenty guards you had previously, and that had been in the best possible conditions with both arms in working condition. If Barnes didn’t have your back… No. You wouldn’t think about that right now. You’d rather die than be taken back to HYDRA, and if it came down to it you would make sure they had no choice but to kill you instead of capture you.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., tell Tony he needs to turn around, now.” You snap your eyes away from Barnes and start towards the door as another explosion rocks the building. 

“I’ve already alerted Mr. Stark to the situation, they’re about an hour out.” You tense as you hear gunfire followed by the shattering of glass. “Hostiles are on the first floor.” You let out a curse and run towards the stairwell to your room, you can hear Barnes footsteps behind you. You ignore him as you dart into your room, throwing your sling onto the bed and yanking open your closet. You nimbly fasten your holsters around your thighs and shove your pistols into them, before shoving your two short swords into the crossed sheaths on your back. You pull your gloves on as you burst into the hall. Barnes is already there, rifle in hand, his lips set into a determined line. 

He starts towards the door, and you grab his arm to stop him. “Barnes, I need to know that you’re going to have my back this time.” His eyes flicker up to your face, and he nods once. The two of you line up on either side of the door to the stairwell, you can hear footsteps coming up the stairs, ten people by the sounds of it. “On my signal throw that door open and shoot low, I’ll go high.” You take a few steps back. “Now!” You run forward as he yanks the door open, using his shoulders as a launchpad to leap over him and the advancing enemies. As he opens fire you twist in the air, pulling your two swords and slicing at any flesh in your way before you land. Immediately you plunge one of your swords through the throat of the nearest enemy before pulling him to you, using his body to shield yourself from a barrage of bullets. You toss your human shield into another of the HYDRA agents, before throwing your right sword through them both. 

Someone throws a smoke grenade up the stairwell, and you’re forced to jump backwards as it lands at your feet. Your back hits Barnes’ chest, and his metal arm shoots out in front of you just in time to block several bullets from hitting you. 

“Thanks,” You breathe, sheathing your remaining sword and grabbing your pistols. You fire blindly under his outstretched arm until you hear a body hit the ground. The sound of glass breaking upstairs has you whirling around. “They must have come down from the bird,” You mutter as you listen to the footsteps heading your way from both upstairs and downstairs. Barnes’ back is against yours as you fire upon the new round of enemies, wordlessly covering each other as you reload.

“I think that’s the last of them,” Barnes relaxes his stance and turns to look at you. Your shoulder is throbbing from your premature use, and you lean against the wall just in time to see one last enemy pop up at the top of the stairwell. You instinctively shove Barnes out of the way just as he fires and let out a sharp gasp as his bullet rips through your shoulder in what feels like the exact same place as your previous injury. 

“Shit--” Bucky reacts immediately, gunning down the last assailant as you fall against the wall, your fingers clutching your shoulder trying to staunch the blood flow. 

“You’ve got to be fucking with me,” You let out a winded laugh, “Think I would’ve learned from last time to never forgo the kevlar.” 

Barnes is staring at you with the oddest look, somewhere between grateful, worried, and angry. The door at the bottom of the stairwell swings open, and you both immediately have your weapons aimed at the intrusion. 

“Buck? Gale?” Steve holds up his hands as he turns the corner and sees the two of you. You relax, holstering your gun. “Thank god the two of you are alright.” His eyes trail over the mass of bodies surrounding you and he shakes his head, “What the hell happened?”

“A fucking assault on the compound is what happened--we’ve obviously got a leak somewhere Steve--they knew the minute you all were out of range.” To your surprise his eyes didn’t even flicker in your direction as he spoke. Yesterday he probably would’ve just put a bullet in your head right there on principal. 

“We’re gonna figure this out,” Steve runs his hand through his hair, “Tony, Bruce, and I are staying back. Natasha’s taking the rest of the team to complete the mission without us.”

“Is everyone okay?” Bruce asks as he comes through the door, his eyes widening as he sees you, “Jesus Gale, I told you to take it easy on that arm.” 

“I didn’t really have a choice,” You frown, “I take it this means I’m back in the sling?”

“Uh, yeah, until further notice you are most definitely in the sling.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Check,” You say triumphantly, leaning back in your chair to observe your opponent. Bruce’s eyes drift over the pieces, before he finally makes his move. Your glance up as Barnes walks in the lounge and falls onto the sofa, switching the television to some war documentary. You wet your lips and try and refocus on the game. Since HYDRA’s infiltration things had been much less tense in the compound; and by that you meant Barnes had just started to ignore you completely. It worked well enough for you, and you were glad to not have to be so on edge all the time. 

Bruce lets out a quiet curse as you take his rook and put him in checkmate. “I used to think I was good at this game,” He chuckles, “But you might give Vision a run for his money.” 

“I doubt that,” You laugh, setting back up the pieces. “Play again?”

“Gale and Sergeant Barnes, Captain Rogers is requesting your presence in conference room C as soon as possible.”

“Or not,” You frown as you look up at Barnes. You weren’t sure what this could possibly be about, your behavior over the last few weeks had been exemplary. 

“I should get back to work anyways,” Bruce smiles, rising to his feet. You stand as well, letting Barnes pass through the doorway before you follow him out towards the conference room. Although the silence between the two of you as you walked wasn’t a comfortable one, it wasn’t verging on violence like it typically would have.

“What’s up Steve?” You ask as you walk in and take a seat at the table.

“I need the two of you to go on an infiltration mission,” Steve says, sliding a file over to you. You take it, your eyes narrowing as you glance between him and Barnes.

“Natasha usually comes with me on those,” Barnes frowns, rifling through his own file. 

“Natasha is out on another job with Wanda and Vision and she won’t be back for another few days. We need to make a move on this fast.”

“I could go alone,” Barnes shuts the file, “Should be an easy in and out.”

“Should be,” Steve says, “But the target is related to HYDRA. We can’t take that kind of chance. I know you two have had problems in the past, but I need you to work together now.”

“Fine,” Barnes rises to his feet, “I’ll meet you at the jet.” 

“You sure about this Steve?” You ask once he’s gone, picking up the file before moving towards the door.

“I think it will be good for you,” he replies, “When the two of you took down those HYDRA agents something changed. I think if you just keep showing him who you are, things will continue to improve.” Steve had been saying that same thing for months, but this time you almost believed him.

 

 

 

You fiddle with your gloves as Barnes sets the small helicopter down gently on the roof of the skyscraper. You pull out your laptop as he kills the engine, and connect to the building’s security system, pointedly ignoring the way Barnes is watching your fingers fly across the keys. You reroute the cameras to show a static image of the hallways and stairwells so you and Barnes can move without being seen. 

“We’re ghosts,” You tell him, propping the laptop up on the seat. He nods and you both hop out and head toward the roof access door. He picks the lock easily, and the two of you silently make your way down to the fiftieth floor. You pull your gun as you reach the door, and peek around the corners but the hallway is empty. The office you’re supposed to be infiltrating is also devoid of security--it was almost laughable, and you were really starting to doubt any pertinent information was being housed here. 

“You can grab the intel,” Barnes tosses you the thumb drive, “You’re obviously much better with these things than I am.” 

You snag it out of the air and turn make your way towards one of the computer banks. As you attempt to log on you immediately hit a wall and you sigh. “And here’s the security,” You mutter, trying something else with no avail. Barnes comes up behind you, looking at the screen blankly.

“Can you get in?” 

“Of course I can get in,” Your fingers dance across the keyboard as you speak, “I was just hoping it would be as easy to get in the computer as it was to get into the building--ahh--here we go.” You smile to yourself as it accepts the password and logs you in as the admin. You quickly locate the files and transfer them to the thumb drive before quickly erasing any logs of you being on the machine. Once that’s done you begin uploading the virus Tony had developed into their system.

“Excuse me, you’re not supposed to be in here!” Your head snaps up to see the security guard standing in the doorway, gun raised in your direction. Automatically you fire your own weapon and the guard crumples in the doorway, blood seeping from the round dark hole in his forehead.

You snag the drive from the computer and slide it into one of the pockets on your tactical vest. 

“Well that was cold,” You turn to look at Barnes who’s looking at you with the oddest expression.

“What?”

“You didn’t need to do that, he wasn’t even a HYDRA guard, just building security.”

“The mission was to get the information without alerting anyone to our presence,” You frown, “I’m pretty sure the guard _might_ mention a break in to someone.” Were you really getting a lesson in morality from the _Winter Soldier_ right now? 

“HYDRA really did a number on you, even without them you’re still just a stone cold killer.” 

Something in you snaps at his words and you shove him away from you, hard. He stumbles back a few steps, surprised, and then his lips curls in anger. He lunges forward, his open palm hitting you hard in the chest as he pushes you roughly against one of the support columns. Your lips part as a sharp breath escapes you, and your eyes narrow in anger. That’s it. You’re going to take his fucking head off this time. 

Your body tenses to attack, and then he leans in, his lips crashing into yours. Your whole body freezes, and then you’re not even sure what’s happening, just that you’re both so fucking angry and it’s _hot_ as his lips roughly claim yours, biting and sucking. 

Your fingers tangle into his long dark hair and his metal hand falls from your chest to grasp your hip, pulling your body closer to his. You can feel his hardness against you through his thick tactical pants, and unthinkingly you roll your hips against him; in a flash he rips himself away from you, his expression transforming into something you can only describe as loathing as a hollow sort of feeling settles in your chest. 

You’re not sure exactly what to do, so you quickly step around him towards the door and hoist the guards body over your shoulders. Cursing under your breath, you rip off a piece of the guard’s shirt and mop up the blood that had pooled on the linoleum floor, polishing it until all the red streaks disappear. You can hear Barnes’ footsteps behind you as you make your way back up to the chopper. 

You’re both silent on the way back, though you swore you could almost here Barnes seething beside you as he flew. Once you were over open water you slid the door open and kicked the corpse out of the plane, leaving just you and Barnes. Part of you kind of missed the dead guy. You were also kind of wondering if you would survive the drop to the water because this was easily the longest ride back to base you had ever experienced.

When you land you immediately shuffle in the direction of the conference room where Steve will be waiting for you and try to ignore Barnes’ hulking form behind you. 

“Welcome back,” Steve smiles as you take the seat across from him. Behind you Barnes pulls out his chair in a way that’s irritatingly loud. “Did you get the information?” You slip the USB out of your vest and slide it across the table. You glance back at Barnes who’s clenched jaw says that he won’t be doing any talking.

“The building was basically empty. I looped the image on the security cameras and wiped the computers so there’s no trace of us. When we were finishing up a guard walked in on us. I took care of it.” 

“And the virus?” Steve’s looking at Bucky, his brow furrowed. You resist the urge to look back and instead focus on keeping your expression blank. 

“Is activated. It will wipe their system when it boots up but it will just look like a technical issue--they won’t be able to track it back to us.”

“Great,” Steve stands, grabbing the USB, “I’ll get this to Tony. You two are dismissed.”

Barnes is on his feet in a quarter of a second and storms out of the room. Before Steve can even ask you about his attitude you quickly depart as well. Barnes had turned in the direction of the gym so you head the opposite way up to your bedroom; you really wanted to be alone anyways.

As you shut the door behind you and fall onto your bed you suddenly, and for the first time since HYDRA had first taken you, feel the telltale prickle of tears behind your eyelids. You quickly rub at your eyes, scowling, and wipe the moisture onto your pant leg. You refused to let even a single tear fall over something as insignificant as James Buchanan Barnes. Even still, you knew it was stupid, but you couldn’t help but feel...rejected. The look of disgust he had given you when he pulled away kept replaying in your mind every second that you weren’t thinking of the actual kiss.

Because you had _never_ been kissed like that before; hell besides youthful pecks in middle school you had never kissed or been with a man outside of a mission. Part of you wanted to go downstairs and pumble Barnes in the ground and another part of you wanted to go downstairs and demand that he finished what he started. But most of you just wanted to lay in bed and mope, so that’s what you did.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been meaning to do this for awhile now, but as of this point this story will update Friday's not Sundays. Thank you all for your reviews so far, and I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

“No run with Steve today?” You ask as Sam walks in, pouring the last of the coffee pot into his cup. 

“No, not after last night,” He takes the seat on the other side of Natasha who’s flipping through a magazine, “You punch like a semi truck.” 

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to train,” You roll your eyes and lift another spoonful of cereal to your mouth. You glance up at the sound of footsteps and instantly regret it as _he_ walks in behind Steve. 

Maybe you had never given yourself permission to notice before, but the man was _gorgeous_. The contrast of his icy blue eyes with the darkness of his hair was striking. Then those icy blue eyes meet yours and you immediately rescind your previous observations--the anger behind his glare when you lock eyes takes you off guard with it’s intensity. He hadn’t looked at you like that since you had first arrived at the compound. Whatever tentative truce the two of you had forged after taking down the HYDRA agents together had dissolved immediately post-kiss. Suddenly the cereal in front of you seemed a lot less appetising. You let your spoon fall back into your bowl and decide to steal one more glance at the soldier; if he was still staring at you you were going to deck him.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” Barnes snarls and without thinking you launch your bowl at him as hard as you can. It shatters as it hits his chest, milk and cereal exploding out from the broken ceramic. Before the spoon even manages to clatter to the ground Barnes dives over the breakfast bar, tackling you to the ground.

You hear Steve let out an indignant cry--Steve had really only seen the aftermath of your fights prior to this--just as your back hits the ground, the wood of the chair splintering painfully underneath you. Barnes pulls back his fist and you can only turn your face slightly so your cheek takes the brunt of the force instead of your nose. Pain explodes in your cheek bone, and you dimly wonder if he broke it as Nat and Sam pull him off of you. You immediately take advantage of the situation and jump up, swinging your own fist into his face; it hits his nose with a satisfying crack before he rips away from Nat and Sam and starts throwing punches at you with a well practiced speed that you’re just able to match.

“Barnes! Gale!” Steve roars, trying to force the two of you apart before you do any real damage to one another. Finally he manages to grab one of your arms, and he flings you away from him. You hit the back wall of the kitchen cracking the plaster behind you. He’s between you and Barnes now but right now you feel like you could probably take both of them with no problem. As you rise to your feet Nat comes to your side, grabbing your arm tightly.

“That’s enough,” She says firmly, “It’s over.” The adrenaline pumping through your veins feels like acid, and you feel like if you don’t do _something_ it’s going to burn you alive. Your eyes dart between her face and to where Steve is speaking lowly to Barnes, his hand on his chest. Finally you let out an agitated huff and lean against the wall.

“Natasha, Sam, I need to talk to Buck and Gale for a few minutes alone. Can you clear out?” Steve asks, his voice strained.

“I’ll be in the lounge,” Nat says quietly, “Come see me when you’re done.” Sam gives you a sympathetic smile as he walks out with Natasha. Once the room is empty Steve sits on the counter, his expression tired as he looks between you and his best friend. You note Barnes’ clenched jaw and the towel he’s holding up to his bleeding nose with satisfaction. It may feel like you took a wrecking ball to your face, but at least you knew he wasn’t feeling great at the moment either.

“Guys, you were both completely out of line. It’s only a matter of time before one of you seriously hurts another, or one of your teammates when they try to pull you apart. I don’t know what happened on your last mission, but obviously the two of you still have some things you need to work out. As of right now you’re both on probation _again_ until I have some kind of proof that the two of you can work together without being a danger to both the mission and to each other.” Steve sighs, running his hand through his thick blonde hair, “Buck, you’re my best friend, and Gale, you’ve become an invaluable member of this team, but something’s got to give. You need to come to some kind of agreement, because things just can’t continue like this.” Steve hops down to his feet and moves towards the door, “I mean it guys, _fix this_.” 

You stare at the empty doorway after he leaves, anger once again boiling in your veins. Did you really just get suspended again because of James- _fucking_ -Barnes? “What is your fucking problem?” You almost screech, striding forward towards him, “I’ve never done a single thing to you and you’re ruining _everything_!”

“You ruined everything when you _came_ here!” Barnes hisses, “I can’t even stand to look at you--every day I wish you didn’t exist.”

“Why the fuck did you kiss me then?” The words tumble from your lips before you can stop them. _Shit_. His eyes widen and his mouth fall open but no words escape. Beneath your anger you can feel another emotion just beneath the surface. Longing. You let out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding and try to press a little further. “I think that we were both forced to do some terrible things, and I think we have a hard time trusting other people. But I’m not a threat to you, you know that, I know you do. I’m not a threat to you, or our friends. I don’t hate you Bucky,” Your fingertips reach out and gently brush the back of his hand. He almost looks confused for a moment before he’s ripping his hand away from you, his expression back to angry.

“I’m not going to be your fucking pawn,” His anger is more controlled now, and it makes his next words hurt even worse, “I’m nothing like you. You’re just HYDRA scum and you’ll betray every single one of us when you have the chance.” You watch as Barnes shoves past you to the door, leaving you standing in the kitchen alone feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. For a minute you thought you had actually been getting through to him. What a joke. You had allowed yourself to open up--just a little--to give him a glimpse of who you really were and he had basically spit in your face.

A little numbly you wrap a towel around some ice from the fridge and hold it to your face as you walk to the lounge. Natasha is sitting on the couch waiting for you, and you sit next to her.

Something in your expression must have clued her in to your internal struggle because her first words are “Gale, are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” You admit, and to your embarrassment a tear runs down your cheek from the eye that isn’t currently swelling closed. You don’t even bother to brush it away and instead let it pool at your chin and then drip onto the fabric of your jeans. Natasha’s eyes are wide with concern and you swallow thickly. “I haven’t cried since I was a kid and HYDRA first captured me. Not when I made my first kill, or when I lost my virginity for the sake of a mission. I didn’t cry when I regained my memory for the first time, or when they forced me back in that chair and wiped my mind again. I didn’t cry when they made me kill my parents. And now I’m crying over _Bucky-fucking-Barnes_.”

“Gale...What happened on your mission? Things were so much better and then you came back and things seem worse than ever.”

You set down the ice and examine your face slightly with your fingertips, ignoring the pain that flares under your touch. You were going to have one hell of a shiner, but you were pretty sure it wasn’t broken. “We got in a fight on the mission,” You say softly after a few seconds, “It wasn’t serious or anything. He made some snide comment about me killing the guard, implying that I’m a fucked up person or whatever.” Nat rolls her eyes and mutters something under her breath that sounds like “hypocrite of the year award”, and you smile a little. “I don’t really even know what happened, I got pissed off or something, and shoved him, and he shoved me back against the wall, and then the next thing I know…” You pause, wetting your lips before you force the damning words out, “...he kissed me.”

Her eyes widen at your words, her lips parting in surprise. Whatever she had been expecting you to say sure as hell hadn’t been that based on her expression. “He _kissed_ you?” You nod. “What happened afterwards?”

“He looked at me like I was literally the most disgusting thing he had ever seen. Like eight tentacles dropped out of my tac suit. Like I slaughtered a room full of puppies and babies in front of him. And then, I don’t know. And then he just seemed...pissed.” 

“What was the kiss like?” You give her a look and she holds her hands up defensively. “What? I’m just trying to get all of the details here so I can wrap my head around what is literally the biggest plot twist in history.”

“Natasha,” You groan and bury your face in your hands, “It was literally the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. He was so angry, and I was so angry, and--Jesus, I’ve never felt like that before. I would’ve fucked him right there in that office, no questions asked.”

“W-o-w,” Natasha drags out the word and your finally raise your head to look at her again. “Sounds intense.” You groan loudly and throw your head back to rest against the sofa. 

“I literally can’t stop thinking about it,” You murmur quietly, staring at the ceiling, “I never even considered it--never even thought about something like that happening--but now because of that _fucking_ kiss all I can think about is him pounding me into the wall or me pounding his _face_ in.” 

“Well, obviously he’s attracted to you,” Natasha starts, and your mouth drops open.

“Natasha, he _hates_ me.” 

“I didn’t say he was in love with you. But he must be attracted to you or he wouldn’t have kissed you.” She explains slowly. 

“I just feel so stupid,” You sigh, “For a second earlier I actually thought--I don’t know. Obviously I was wrong. It doesn’t even matter because I’m done. I’m done fighting with him, I’m done thinking about him, I’m just done.”

“Gale...You’re not thinking about leaving are you?” 

Were you? “I just need some time to think or something,” You shake your head, “I’m not going to take off, don’t worry,” You say in response to her worried expression, “I just need to clear my head. I’m fine.”

 

 

 

After the longest run in history of runs you finally make your way back to the compound, pulling your earbuds from your ears. You can hear the whirl of machinery from Stark’s lab and you push open the door to see him welding something on a table, sparks flying off in either direction. When the door closes behind you he turns around. 

“Well hello there,” Tony grins, setting his welding mask down on the table.

“Thought I’d come down and see if there’s anything I can do to help out.” You trail your fingertips along a work bench as you walk towards him. 

“Mmm, and that has nothing to do with the fact that this room here is the room least likely to house the Winter Soldier?” 

“Added benefit,” You mumble sourly, you were hoping Stark hadn’t heard about that yet. 

“Yeah, I bet,” he snorts, “Hand me that wrench.” You hand it over with a roll of your eyes and sprawl out in his office chair. You start fiddling with a screwdriver and try to suppress your tumultuous thoughts. You realize after too many seconds that Stark had stopped working and was watching you, a slight frown pulling down the corners of his lips. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” You respond immediately, tossing the screwdriver back into the disarray that was Stark’s desk. He starts to turn away and the words spill from your traitorous lips; “Do you think Steve’s going to ask me to leave?” 

“You’re worried Righteous Rogers is going to throw you on the street? That would be the day.” 

“He almost tore the Avengers apart over Barnes’ once, I’m just one person.”

Tony almost looks sick as he takes in your words, “Gale… Do you honestly think that any one of us would just let you go quietly?” He clears his throat, “Now, I’m gonna get mushy on you for a second, so bear with me; Gale, you’re family now. And family means nobody gets left behind.” 

“Was that Lilo and Stitch?” You ask to hide the fact that for the second time today you were fighting tears, “You’re so lame.” You punch him lightly on the shoulder, and he smiles at you. 

“Don’t worry, you’re not going anywhere kid.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Barnes,” Natasha jogs to catch up with the dark haired soldier, “We need to talk.”

“What?” She frowns at his surly attitude. Usually he was much nicer to her, the two of them had an uneasy mutual respect. Ignoring his agitation, she pulls him into the empty lounge, meeting his glare with an impassive stare. 

“I don’t know what happened between you and Gale, but you need to do something. I’ve never seen her like that before. Whatever you did, whatever you said to her, you hurt her.”

“Why should I give a fuck--” Bucky starts, but Natasha quickly cuts him off.

“No--you’re not pulling that shit with me. Pull your head out of your ass Barnes, the girl isn’t the fucking enemy, she was tortured by the enemy just like you and just like Wanda, but she’s the only one you seem to have a problem with.” He opens his mouth to speak but Natasha doesn’t give him the chance, “You don’t need to talk, I don’t need to hear your justifications, I need you to _fix_ this.” She turns around, heading towards the door. She turns back for a moment, “--And this conversation never happened.”

 

 

 

You shoot Tony a glare from across the table as Natasha piles food onto your plate. After his heartfelt words yesterday he had used your emotional state to drag a promise to attend the Sunday dinner from you. You knew any minute that Barnes was going to come through the door and probably flip the dinner table when he saw you. 

He stops in his tracks when he sees you, and you immediately drop your eyes to your plate before you can see his glare. At this point you didn’t care if he took it as a sign of weakness or submission, you just _really_ didn’t want your problems to ruin everyone’s dinner. He doesn’t flip the table though, and you can almost pretend he’s not there while you make small talk with Natasha and Wanda. Almost. You sneak a couple of glances throughout the meal, each time smugly noting the bruises spread out beneath his eyes. It made you feel a little better about your own face which currently looked like someone had smashed a handful of blueberries into it. However the moment you finish your plate you head to the sink to rinse it off and slink out of the kitchen towards your room. Really all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and pretend like the past few days had never happened.

 

 

 

Bucky’s not really sure what he’s thinking when he stops in front of you room; there’s just something about you that makes his blood boil. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t even think you were a HYDRA spy anymore--the look in your eyes when they had infiltrated the compound wasn’t something that could be faked, and afterwards he had felt a little embarrassed about his previous behavior. 

Then the two of you had been assigned the mission together, which _could_ have been the perfect chance to show you that he could be a decent human being--and then the snide remarks had fallen from his lips--just habit at this point really. Then your eyes had gotten that angry spark they always got when he pissed you off, and you had shoved him; even though he could feel the raw strength in your limbs, and even though he knew how deadly that strength would be, in that moment for some reason all he could think about was how little your hands felt against his chest. When he pushed you back against the wall and felt your lithe body against his, he didn’t even think, he just kissed you--and when you ground against him-- _god_. It was just too much. He had panicked, he couldn’t help it, he didn’t know how to _deal_ with it, and _fuck_ \--it was all your fault. 

It was like you came here specifically to ruin him.

He didn’t know what he was going to say if you opened that door. If he was lucky you would just slam it in his face. That’s what you should have done. Instead the door swings open and you’re standing there, surprise etched into your delicate features. He watches as you blink several times as though you can’t comprehend him standing in your doorway. You’re usually much faster, he notes, he must have woken you up. Then he notices what you’re wearing; just a tank top and the tiniest shorts he’d ever seen in his life. Fuck. They sure as hell weren’t wearing those in the 40s.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your emotion is raw in your voice; hurt, but unbelievably pissed, “Why the fuck won’t you just _leave me alone_?” He steps forward and you’re sure he’s going to attack you, but instead he grabs your shoulders and smashes his lips against yours hard enough to bruise.

Just like before everything else around you seems to fade away as your arms wrap around his neck, biting against his lip before his tongue forces its way into your mouth, exploring it like he fucking _belongs_ there.

I should stop this, you think as he grips your hips, lifting you until you wrap your legs around his waist.

This can’t end well, you think as he pulls your tank top over your head and walks you towards the bed. 

We shouldn’t be doing this, you think as he lays you on your rumpled sheets and pulls his own shirt over his head. Your mouth feels suddenly dry as your eyes trail over his hard body, and then he’s on top of you, yanking down your black cotton shorts.

Then you’re no longer thinking as he slips two fingers into you, a ragged moan spilling from your mouth into his. He pumps in and out of you a few times before he pushes down his shorts. He hovers just outside your entrance until your roll your hips up, engulfing him. He doesn’t hesitate then, thrusting roughly into you until you’re meeting him thrust for thrust; all of your anger and frustration pouring out between the two of you in the groans that escape you both. His forehead falls against yours and your eyes meet, and for the first time you had ever seen his blue eyes were warm. His breakneck pace slows, and your fingers tighten against his hips as he leans in and kisses you again; but this time is different from the others. It’s slow and sweet; the pressure that had been building in your abdomen suddenly snaps and you shudder against him, your toes curling as he swallows the moan that falls from your lips.

“Bucky,” You groan as his pace falters and he slams into you, burying his face in your neck as he finds his own release. You hold your breath as he rolls off of you, laying on his back beside you. You have no idea what you could possibly say in this moment. Any minute now he was going to just lose it. You’d be lucky if you didn’t kill each other after this. He doesn’t say anything--doesn’t even move-- _god_ you’d kill to know what he was thinking at this exact moment. Finally when you’re not sure you can stand it anymore he clears his throat.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Me too.” The silence resumes, but some of the awkwardness has faded away. 

“I’m sterile. In case you were worried.”

“Me too.” You can tell he’s thinking about leaving and you knew it was probably pointless to try, but you were unable to stop yourself from murmuring, “You could stay,” as he sits up. He looks back at you, conflicted, and then he nods and slowly lowers himself back down. You roll over to face him, and silently run your fingers over the back of his hand, avoiding his eyes although you can feel his gaze on your face. Finally he picks his hand up and places it over yours, and you can’t help but marvel over how large and warm it feels wrapped around yours. All you could do was pray that tomorrow morning wouldn’t be as terrible as you imagined, and snuggle a little closer to the man in bed with you.


	10. Chapter 10

It’s early in the morning when Bucky finally slips from beneath your sheets. You peer at him from beneath your lashes as he pulls on his clothes from the night before; you know that he knows you’re not sleeping, but neither of you say anything as he silently leaves the room. Once you hear the lock click back into place you roll over to occupy his previous position and soak up his residual body heat. You stretch out, feeling more relaxed than you could ever remember being; that being said, you were under no false illusions--you were almost positive the moment you rain into Buky again that it would come to blows. After this Stark would be lucky if the two of you didn’t bring the tower down around you. 

Once the sun finally crests and fills your room with warm orange light you slip out of bed yourself and pull on a pair of sweatpants (ignoring all thoughts of the similar garments Bucky had been wearing the night before of course) and you’re discarded tank top.

If you were lucky Bucky and Steve would still be out on their morning run and you’d be free to grab a bowl of cereal and hide in your room in peace; just because you had a really strong feeling that you’d end up fighting with Bucky today didn’t mean that you wanted to. 

You shuffle down to the kitchen, where naturally they’re both sitting at the breakfast bar slamming down what looks like a carton of eggs between the two of them, not to mention the half eaten loaf of bread sitting in front of him. His icy eyes meet yours, and he doesn’t look hostile; in fact you’re not quite sure what words to describe his express so you give him an almost imperceptible nod before pouring yourself a large bowl of cereal. If he’s going to play nice, you can too, so you take the empty chair on the other side of Steve, ignoring the blonde’s confused look. 

“Morning,” You mumble around a huge bite, “Good run?”

“Yes…” Steve’s side eyeing you like you came to breakfast wearing a sombrero and reciting the Star Spangled Banner at him in Latin. You shift uncomfortably in your seat and shove more cereal into your mouth to avoid speaking. “You should come some morning,” he offers.

“Ugh, way too early,” You reply with a groan, “Plus I can’t run before my cereal--Lucky Charms gives me the energy I need to hit the gym.” To your surprise you hear Bucky snort in amusement at your words. Now Steve’s looking at him like he’s wearing the sombrero. This had to be the strangest morning that you had ever had, and that was definitely saying something.

Tony walks in a few minutes later and heads straight towards the coffee pot. He swirls the liquid around suspiciously before he turns towards Steve. “You make this Rogers?”

“Just a few minutes ago,” Steve chirps happily. Tony sighs in response and dumps it in the sink before refilling the coffee filter.

“From now on Gale is the only one allowed to touch the coffee pot,” He turns around as the coffee begins to brew and his eyes suddenly drift from you to Bucky as if seeing him for the first time. “Hold on--what the hell is this? You two are in the same room and _not_ attempting to destroy our home? No throwing punches? No breaking the appliances? Color me impressed Rogers, that must have been some talking to you gave them.”

“Can you maybe try not to start something? Steve frowns, “It’s like you just can’t resist rocking the boat.” 

“Hey,” Tony says holding up his hands, “I’m just wondering if I can tell Bruce he can start eating in the kitchen again without causing a Code Green. You really shouldn’t get so worked up about stuff Cap, it’s dangerous for men your age. Oh--I almost forgot. We just finished decoding those files that those two nuclear warheads you let wander our compound retrieved--care to have a look?” 

Steve looks like he wants to throw a few punches in Stark’s direction, but he just signs and dumps his empty plate into the sink. Bucky follows Steve out without even looking in your direction while you finish your cereal in a daze. What a weird morning.

 

 

You almost jump out of your skin when you walk into the gym and find Bucky leaning against the wall waiting for you, but force your expression to stay impassive as he strides purposefully towards you and grabs the front of your tank top pulling you against him.

“You walk into that kitchen wearin’ this same little tank top I took off you last night,” his voice is low, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear sends a shiver down your body, “I wanted to push you up against that counter right in the kitchen and slip right into you.” You almost whimper at his words and you can feel the smile on his lips when he runs the tip of his nose from the sensitive skin below your ear down to your jawline. 

He gently walks you backwards until you reach the back wall and then without warning he spins you around so you’re facing it. You brace your hands against it, your arms shaking in anticipation. He nudges your your feet apart until you’re slightly bent over, and then you can feel him hot and heavy through the thin material of your sweatpants as he leans over to put hip lips back against the shell of your ear. “Do you want me to take you again right here?” You nod eagerly at his words, “Right here in the gym?? Where anyone could just walk in?”

“Now,” You growl, backing into him and savouring the pleasured hiss that falls from his lips. His hands slide down your sweatpants just enough for him to slip inside you and your legs almost give out as he bottoms out inside of you.

“Fuck,” You breath, throwing your head. His lips latch onto your exposed throat as he snaps his hips forward, relishing the way you body shudders around him.

When you walk into the gym, Bucky’s already in there, leaning against the wall. He strides purposefully towards you and grabs the front of your tank top, pulling you to him. 

“You walk into that kitchen wearin’ the same little tank top I took off you last night,” his voice is low, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your body, “I wanted to jump you right there in that kitchen, push you up against that counter and slip right into you.” His tongue darts out to lick his lips and the tip of it brushes your ear lobe causing a low moan to escape your lips. You can feel his amusement when he runs the tip of his nose from the sensitive skin below your ear down to your jawline. He gently walks the two of you back until you’re at the wall and without warning he spins you around so you’re facing the wall. You brace your hands against it, your arms shaking in anticipation. He nudges your feet apart, forcing you to bend over slightly. You can feel him hot and heavy through the thin material of your sweatpants and then his lips are at your ear, “Do you want me to take you again right here?” You nod, “Right here in the gym? Where anyone could just walk in?” 

“Now,” You growl, backing into him a little more and savouring the pleasured hiss that falls from his lips. His hands slide down your sweatpants just enough for him to slip inside you and your legs almost give out as he bottoms out inside you. “Fuck,” You breathe, throwing your head back. He pulls out until just the tip is still tucked inside and then snaps his hips forward, relishing the way your body shudders around him. One hand comes around to stifle the string of moans coming from you, while his metal arm trails down your stomach until his fingers find your clit. Between his furious pace and his fingers circling you, you find you release in record time. Your body tenses as waves of pleasure radiate through you in a way you’d never experienced before. Bucky’s hand leaves your mouth just as your legs start to collapse and he wraps his arms around your waist supporting your weight through his own orgasm.

He slips out of you and turns you around, placing a heart stopping kiss against your lips. You pull your pants into place and then slide down the wall, landing on the floor with an uncharacteristically graceless thud and watch as Bucky does the same, setting himself down so he’s close enough to you that your shoulders are touching. To your intense surprise he pulls your hand over to his lap where he appears to examine it, gently turning it this way and that. You smile, bemused. 

“You have the tiniest hands, but somehow you manage to pack quite a punch doll,” One corner of his mouth raises in a slight smile, “You broke my nose the other day in the kitchen you know.”

“I can see that,” You smile, brushing your free fingers lightly across the fading bruises on his face. You can tell his eyes are lingering on the evidence of your last fight on your own face, “I was luckier, hairline fracture. You must have been pulling your punches. Wish I would have, punching you is like punching vibranium coated cement, my knuckles hurt worse than my face.” Bucky chuckles, intertwining his fingers with yours. You kind of feel like you’re in the _Twilight Zone_ or at the very least having the most intense wet dream of your life.

“Bucky...What is this?” You hold up your joined hands, “What are we doing here?” 

He frowns. “Last night I didn’t know what would happen when I knocked on your door--I wasn’t sure if you’d slam the door in my face or we’d end up killing each other or what. And then I saw those little shorts,” he gives you a devastatingly handsome smirk, “And then I thought maybe it I just _fucked_ you maybe I’d be able to get you out of my head. But then I was inside you and--” He cuts off and swallows thickly, “I don’t know what this is or what were doing, but I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to fight you anymore, I want to _fuck_ you.”

You swallow reflexively, your mouth suddenly dry. A million responses line up behind your lips; some gushier than anything you would ever actually utter, others not so nice. Finally you let out the most mundane of your thoughts: “I should probably hack into Stark’s system and delete the security footage of this room.”

Bucky chuckles and stands up before pulling you to your feet. “Let me buy you dinner tonight doll,” his hands grasp yours a little tighter, “My way of apologising for...Well, everything since you got here.” 

“I wasn’t exactly innocent,” You mumble, pulling your eyes from his intense gaze. 

“Meet me in the garage at eight, alright?”

“I’ll be there.” You pull your hands away from him and walk out in the general direction of the nearest computer. If Stark saw _that_ you would never hear the end of it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this last chapter being so late. I've had it half written for awhile now, but some recent health problems have prevented me from finishing it. Here's the last chapter, an epilogue of sorts. Hope you've all enjoyed the story, and thanks for reading!

You catch Steve’s punch in one hand, and swing your leg, knocking him to the ground and quickly spin around as you hear Bucky launch his own attack. You’re a little slow dodging Bucky’s punch and it clips your jaw, sending you to the ground next to Steve. He’s at your side in a second, “Shit, sorry doll.”

“My fault,” Your rub at the tender area, “Should have been faster. And I must have been crazy when I said two on one.” 

“I don’t know Gale,” Steve says as you both climb to your feet, “I think you’re losing your edge. We first found you after you had single handedly taken on twenty men--now you can’t handle two?” 

“Hey!” You cry out indignantly, “Those guys didn’t pack the kind of punch you two do, alright? Come on, let’s go again.” 

“Can’t,” Steve says, “Wanda and I are cooking tonight.”

“One more--and I’ll come help you guys.” You insist, pulling a smile and a reluctant nod from Steve. You take a few steps away from the boys giving yourself some room before giving them a cocky smile. Steve lunges forward unexpectedly and you leap back avoiding his fist and then quickly duck as Bucky’s leg sweeps over your head. You catch his ankle and pull, sending him careening into Steve who’s once again forced to the ground when Bucky uses him to rebound back towards you. You leap into the air, wrapping your legs around Bucky’s neck and use your momentum to force him onto the ground. 

“Been trainin’ with Romanov?” Bucky asks as you release him so he can sit up. 

“She’s the only one who’ll train with me,” You laugh, “Alright Steve, let’s go make your spaghetti dinner.” 

“How did you know what I was making?” Steve sounds surprised and you grin. 

“It’s literally the only thing you know how to cook,” Bucky retorts, helping you up to your feet. 

“That’s not true,” Steve frowns, “Last time I made--”

“Lasagna,” You cut in, “Which is literally just layered spaghetti--But it’s okay Steve, we all love your spaghetti. Now let’s go make your secret sauce.” 

“You’ll never guess my secret ingredient.”

“Fennel?” You and Bucky say at the same time drawing a groan from Steve.

“Somehow I actually kind of miss when you two fought all the time. This is just too weird.” 

Bucky throws his arm over your shoulders and grins at his best friend who shakes his head in response. 

\---

You snag the last piece of garlic bread just as Sam begins to reach for it and rip a huge bite out of it, earning a glare from the darker skinned man. 

“Too slow,” You tell him through a mouth full of bread.

“Yeah what else is new?” Sam rolls his eyes before turning them to the single meatball still resting in the pan instead. So fast you would have missed it had you not been watching, Bucky snatches up the meatball between two fingers and pops that into his mouth, while you hide a smile behind your hand. 

Sam is now glaring at both of you, his dark eyes flickering between the two of you sitting side by side at the table. 

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Stark’s voice says from the head of the table; you hadn’t realized he’d been paying attention. “What the hell is going on in this place?” 

“Pardon?” You ask, turning in your seat to look in his direction. Beneath the table Bucky’s metal fingers have begun to draw tantalizing patterns across the skin of your thighs left uncovered by your shorts. 

“It’s been quiet--don’t get me wrong it’s a vast improvement, but weird. Okay, I’ll buy it, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that, but this--” he gestures between you and Bucky, “Is unnatural.” You raise your eyebrows at his words, while his eyes suddenly drop to the edge of the table, taking in the positioning of Bucky’s arm. “You have got to be fucking with me,” Stark says suddenly. “Sorry, I phrased that wrong because you two,” he points across the table, “Are fucking each other.”

“Right,” Sam snorts, “And I’m the Tooth Fairy.” 

“Put on your tutu bird-boy, because the Iron Giant over there is feeling up Gale under the table as we speak.” Bucky’s fingers freeze on your skin, but the lazy smirk he sends Stark speaks volumes. 

“I’m sorry, let me wrap my head around this,” Sam starts, while Natasha sends you a knowing smile; although you and Bucky weren’t a secret, you weren’t trying to publicize it, because of this exact reaction. Natasha had told you that Stark would catch on within a month; it had been 28 days. “After all the shit that you guys put us through--”

“All the damages--” Stark cuts in.

“Both emotional, physical, and to the compound,” Sam continues.

“The stress, the inconveniences, the money,” Tony lists on his fingers.

“All it took was a little hanky panky to bring peace?” 

“The gym,” Stark says suddenly, “You deleted the footage! Because you two fucked in the gym! Honestly--I have no words.”

“Doubt that,” You mutter, while Steve looks at you with something like horror, the words “The gym?” leaving his lips. 

“We all use that gym!” Sam sounds just as horrified. Part of you wants to tell him that just two nights ago the two of you had gone at it in this very kitchen, but you keep quiet. Bucky’s face says that he’s thinking about the same thing. 

“I don’t hear any denial coming from the two psychopaths down the table, now do I?” Stark crosses his arms, his eyes falling on your face.

“To be fair Stark,” Natasha’s lips curl into a devilish smile, “Bucky and Gale aren’t the only ones to have used the gym for recreation.” She shoots the older man a wink, while Bruce’s face turns a startling shade of red.

At this an all out bickering match ensues when Stark turns his attention to Natasha. Bucky’s hand curls around yours under the table and you look at him, his blue eyes soft and content as they meet yours. Your lips curl into a smile and in the moment it’s just the two of you sitting at the table--until an indignant squawk from Sam brings you back to the argument at the table.


End file.
